Death Instructor
12:00 Oxford street
Elizabeth the queen's manners, yet
People scream and spit
People steal and cheat
And you sit there, comfortably, at humanity’s capital so they say.
Are you going to story the moment?
Are you going moment the story?
Itch on left foot thumb scratch, let it go..
Sidenote shit on head weighs on shoulders from a passing grey pigeon, so what, nature talks louder.
And you listen, carefully or carelessly.. people’s marathon of sex and power do not disturb the hairs on your upper glutes, sit tight and take a baby’s breath, no one is actually going anywhere, but hurried to graveyard condolences for the previous self that lost their on shelf-life-canned-stock-sardines-be-running scared for a quarter of water, where shark’s teeth, blue-collar police officer-doubt-what-are-we-after nation’s unshakeability on Saint Helena sacred tomb, Napoleon has the rumor of what life was all about, only while prisoned in infinite time and ground 0 fertile lands, to let the mind die from inaction, what this story is all about?
A new airport, but I would still choose portside.
Good luck, life’s good.
Some metro coffee vender-napper commented and you smiled so brightly…
